


titty mags

by Psuedorabbit



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Akashi Seijuro - Freeform, Angst, Aomine Daiki - Freeform, Bottom Akashi Seijuurou, GoM - Freeform, KnB - Freeform, Kuroko no Basket - Freeform, M/M, NSFW, Riding, Top Aomine Daiki, Yelling, cock in a sweet ass, generation of miracles - Freeform, kuroko no basuke - Freeform, titty mags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 07:45:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6896122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psuedorabbit/pseuds/Psuedorabbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which akashi finds Aomine's titty mags in his own house and he's salty about it until he gets his sweet little hole fucked open</p>
            </blockquote>





	titty mags

**Author's Note:**

> I received the prompt;
> 
> Hiii! Sorry for the bother but could you write a scenario for Akashi x Aomine? It may sound strange but I ship them a lot. Would you please write about Akashi geting jealous that Aomine still likes and keeps gravure magazines with women and keeps paying attention at women's breats? Maybe something including jealousy sex (I'm a huge fan of it xD). I'm so sorry for the strange ask and for my terrible explanation skills. Hope you have a great day! ^^

Disgust was many of the reactions swimming in crimson irises, and it wasn't the first time today.

He picks up a magazine, a vulgar display of a woman wearing a soaked T-shirt with no bra on was sitting on the hood of some bright red sports car, the front of her shorts undone to flash a bit of her black lace panties.

Akashi’s eyes skim over the cover, reads the bolded headlines and subtexts that hint at _“better photos”_ and more _“slutty eighteen year olds”_ inside.

This was the third magazine he found today- in his own home!

Aomine made a habit of staying overnight for days, even weeks at a time. Akashi asked for him to just move in on more than one occasion, but Aomine had simply brushed him off, saying he liked “his own space.”

Not saying that Akashi particularly agreed with Aomine's explanation, but he had enough common sense to just leave the issue be.

Akashi tosses the book into the trash bag he's holding, filled with wrappers and tissues (snot or semen full, he's not sure- but they aren't his) and other pornagraphic items of the sort. Really, he should have the maids pick up after this pig, but he's too embarrassed of the mess.

Akashi thinks he’s done, and with a loud sigh and twitch of his eyebrows, he goes to the closet to make sure there wasn't anything else that needed to be thrown away. His eyes catch something flashy, and he bends down.

Cleavage. That's all the man sees as he pulls out a rather large stack of even more gravure magazines. Rage prickles through his skin and into his veins, winding around him and constricting like some sort of snake.

His chest hurts, and his fingertips are beginning to throb from how tight he was holding the thick booklets. This is it- this is the last straw. He's put up with the sloppiness, the porn, the googly eyes at any woman with breasts larger than a C cup.

It all made him think. He kneels on the floor now, the anger on his face smoothing out into one of demur. Did Aomine only date him to have some sort of arm candy? For money? Granted, the man spoiled Aomine to no end; he always bought the latest sneakers, or CDs for Aomine within a moments notice.

His eyes stung but he didn't care. Akashi would need to have a serious talk with Aomine when he comes over this evening. Akashi closes his eyes, takes a much needed breath, and clears his mind. No more assumptions that he doesn't have evidence for. He opens his eyes again, stuffs all of the magazines into the trash bag, and goes out to throw the bag away.

Some time passes before Aomine makes an appearance, pressing a lazy kiss to the top of Akashi’s head as he walks into the mansion.

“Daiki.” The redhead calls the taller, still standing by the front door. A halfhearted grunt is heard from somewhere in the kitchen, and Akashi sighs, following the man. The maids have long since scurried, knowing damn well this was a serious situation.

“Daiki, I'd like to discuss something with you.” Although Aomine never said it, he always managed to get chills whenever the redhead said his name like that. He turns around, lowering the milk carton from his mouth and licks his lips.

“‘Bout what?” Aomine asks, leaning against the counter. Akashi eyes the carton warily, pretends to not be disgusted.

“I found some… Items today, in my bedroom. They certainly aren't mine, and some of them were a bit.. _Used_ ,” Akashi begins, sighing a little as his arms cross over his chest. The men locked eyes, the taller looking mildly surprised.

“Yeah? You like em?” Aomine teases, turns to put the milk back into the once well stocked refrigerator, and turns back to hook his arms lazily around the shorters hips.

Akashi, again, makes a face of disgust and presses his hands to Aomine's chest and tries to push himself away.

“Daiki, you know how I feel about those magazines. You know I hate it when you look at women, much less masturbate to them,” he feels embarrassed to bring it up, to speak his thoughts out loud. He also feels relieved in a way, to confide in the man about his insecurities. Akashi just wishes he didn't have to spell it out for him.

Aomine rolls his eyes, his grip tightening. He leans down to press a kiss to each of Akashi’s cheeks.

“If I would have known you'd get so damn jealous, I wouldn't keep them. Sorry to upset you, baby-” before he can finish however, Akashi snatches himself away, glowering at the taller.

“I am not jealous.”

“You definitely are.”

“I am Akashi Seijuro, and I am not _jealous_ over some _whore_ on a magazine cover!” Both men are surprised at what Akashi had said, and the redhead lowers his gaze to the floor in mild shame.

“Babe, look at me.” Akashi doesn't move.

“Seijuro, look at me.” At the sound of his name, the redhead moves his gaze upward, crimson orbs meeting navy.

They both stood there for a while, simply staring. It wasn't until Aomine stepped forward to embrace the shorter was when Akashi had hesitantly coiled his arms around the thick frame of Aomine.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers, muffled by Aomine's chest. The apology is taken wordlessly, returned by a squeeze of his arms and a kiss to the forehead.

“I fucked up again, huh?” The question is rhetorical, and Aomine can't help but laugh at himself dryly.

“I really need to treat you like the man you are.” He's embarrassed, and it shows with the lighter coloring of his cheeks. He decides the embarrassment is worth it, as long as Akashi feels better.

Low self esteem on Akashi is as foreign as life in the desert, and it kills Aomine all the same. He tilts the redheads chin upward, looks him in the eyes before he closes the space between them. Aomine’s hands splayed at Akashi's waist where his fingers dug into him here and there when the kisses couldn’t be any deeper but he needed more.

Akashi wasn't particularly pleased with the way their discussion turned out, but he can't deny that the lip bruising kisses they were sharing were making him anything less than happy and a bit aroused.

It was times like these, where Aomine managed to make him feel like the only person in the world, as if there weren't porno magazines in the trash, as if there weren't women in the world that could make Aomine's head turn.

It was only him, and he was the only one that Aomine wanted. Aomine was the only one that he wanted, so wouldn't it be fair that it were the same for the taller? In Akashi's mind, it was. Although, the redhead didn't do much more thinking when large hands gripped into his ass and just _squeezed_. A sharp gasp escapes Akashi, a light red pigment dusting over his cheeks as he draws from the kiss.

“I don't think you've ever kissed me as passionately as you have tonight, Daiki.” He murmurs, a curl of his lips following with his arms hooking around the tanned males neck.

“I need to treat my emperor, don't I?” he teases again, hikes Akashi onto his hips without notice. A small squeal burbles from Akashi's throat, an embarrassed flush of color darkening his cheeks further. He's about to protest, to tell Aomine to _put him down_ , but he's interrupted with yet another bruising kiss.

With that, Aomine half man handles half carries him to the bedroom.

Akashi lies on the bed now, thighs spread and head propped up on a pillow, gaze lowered to the lips that were trailing kisses on his abdomen, shirt raising higher and higher as the kisses progressed upward.

Aomine's breath was hot, lips feeling equally as feverish as they trailed along his pale skin. Akashi lets his eyes fall shut, lips parting as a soft sigh passes through them. His fingers knot loosely into navy locks, idly tugging when more sensitive spots were kissed and prodded at.

“Listen to the sounds you're making,” Aomine rumbles, the tip of his tongue flicking against a jut out hip bone. Akashi squirms.

“Magazines don't make noises,” he comments, pressing multiple kisses on the same hip.

“Not nearly as warm either. I bet they don't smell as intoxicating as you, either.” Aomine finishes, fingertips undoing Akashi's pants with ease. The redhead is burning with more than just need, a hand flying up to conceal his face.

“Don't say such things, Daiki..” He's squirming more now, eager to get his pants off and palm at himself. Aomine seemed to have no intentions of letting him go like that.

Aomine only grunts, rips off Akashi's pants unceremoniously, and tosses them to the floor without a care. His main goal is to have Akashi completely broken, to have him rely on the tanned male and to trust him with every fiber of his being to give him the most pleasure- the pleasure that he deserves.

And to that, he did.

Now Akashi was on Aomine's lap, spine arching away from Aomine's chest with his cock buried deep within his ass. A pale hand reached behind him, locking into Aomine's hair yet again, this time, not as gently as the last.

Shallow moans and breathy pants were forced out of Akashi as he was fucked, ass cheeks and thighs spread obscenely wide to give Aomine a view of the bubble gum pink hole wrapped so tight around his cock.

Aomine moans at the sight every time, moans louder when Akashi tightens up around him and milks him. The way Akashi's entrance kisses at his cock, breathes around it, makes Aomine thrust into Akashi even harder.

The rough treatment causes Akashi's moans to stutter, to break and cripple like his body already has.

Aomine's free hand is wrapped securely around the base of the redheads cock, forbidding orgasm. Wetness dribbled from the head of his cock, glistening as it leaked down to Aomine's fingertips. His fingers twitch with the desire to lick himself clean, or even to hook them into Akashi's mouth and have _him_ lick his digits clean.

Tears spilled from Akashi's waterlines, nose scrunched up and teeth bared as his free hand gripped Aomine's forearm with an intensity that could possibly fracture the bone.

“Let me come Daiki, please!” He's desperate now, sniffling and shivering with the possibilities of orgasm whenever Aomine's grip loosens slightly. Aomine laughs behind him, the sound breathless and chest rattling. Akashi can feel it through his shoulder blades.

“Sure, but I need you to do me a favor first.” Akashi sobbed loudly, head falling backward to thump against Aomine's shoulder in exasperation.

“Anything! Please..” he trails off, eyes squeezed shut as goosebumps litter his skin as he thrusts into open air when another dry orgasm hits. Aomine takes his time for words, cock beginning to slow into agonizingly slow brushes against his throbbing walls.

“I need you to tell me that you're mine. Understand that I'll only make _you_ feel like this, no one else,” he murmurs, voice suddenly by his ear and making Akashi flush with new heat. He nods quickly, the tears dripping from his jaw to his chest.

“I'm yours Daiki, I'm yours.. Yours to pleasure, to love.” Akashi's voice grows quieter at the end, and his heart thumps wildly against his chest. He thinks he oversteps the boundary, but then the hand around his cock releases, and his hips are grabbed with brute strength.

“Don't forget that, Seijuro. I want my name on your tongue when you come, got it?” At this, Akashi nods quickly, sniffles hard and begins to bounce on Aomine's lap quickly.

The tip of Aomine's cock kisses his spot over and over again, finally giving him the nudge he needed to orgasm. Ropes and ropes of thick capitulation splattered on his chest and stomach and even the bed. As promised, Daiki’s name was sung over and over again in a broken melody, thighs trembling.

Aomine was quick to follow, his own wetness seeping out of the boy and to the bed.

Long after they've cleaned up and crawled into bed together, Akashi finally speaks.

“I'm sorry I got jealous over photography..” he sounds unsure of himself, and it makes Aomine laugh. A slap to the chest follows, quieting him down.

“Don't worry about it. If I want porn, I should just get you on camera, huh?” He's only half teasing, but the glint in Akashi's eyes makes him actually consider the idea.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on knb-garbage-writing.tumblr.com to request character x character stuff for knb


End file.
